A Year Well Spent
by ClariartyShippers
Summary: Avery Novak has had a rough day, but when she bumps into the God of Mischief unknowingly, her life will be drastically changed. takes place after TTDW and is slightly AU. Mentions of non-con. Warnings inside. Loki/OC
1. Chapter 1

**So this is an M rated fic for a reason. There is mention of rape/ implied rape so if that is not your thing please move on. This warning only applies to this chapter but I will post warnings as needed.**

 **Other than that,**

 **Enjoy!**

I awoke to the sound of a man laughing a sickening laugh. I looked around to assess my surroundings when I realized that I was in his bed, in his apartment. This man owned so many things and yet he wanted more. The room was not modern by all means but modern enough to cost a lot of money.

Yet, he still wanted more, he wanted me.

Luckily his laugh came from outside of his room. I could only hear one side of a conversation so he must be on the phone.

From what I could hear, he was talking about me.

No, scratch that.

He was _bragging_ about me. He was telling the other person on the phone how much fun it is to tease me. How fun it is to play with my body, with my mind, with my soul. He was describing in detail what he had down while I was knocked out cold on his bed.

The things he had described to the man should never be repeated. I didn't want to hear it, yet I couldn't force myself to block it out.

I looked down at my battered form sprawled across of the bed. My head throbbed from the knockout blow caused by a rusting pipe he swung like a baseball bat. I could already tell that it was swelling and there would sure as hell be a mark there tomorrow, if there wasn't already.

There were, however, other visible marks on my body. A long gash convulsed on my face starting at my left brow to my right cheekbone. I could taste the metal from the blood as it dripped down into my mouth.

I didn't—couldn't bring myself to spit the blood from my mouth. I'm too weak for that. I need to save energy if I want to have some form of dignity left.

My eyes moved down my body taking in the little clothing I still had on. My bra was missing a strap and its dark blue was turned into a dark purple from the blood stains.

There was a heart shaped mark carved into my skin right above where my actual heart would lie in my chest.

I can no longer tell if I still had a heart or not because I couldn't feel it beating. The only thing I could feel were the injuries and the humiliation. I don't care if I no longer have a heart because there is no need for one. Who needs a heart when you have a sassy mouth that can get into trouble no matter how much of a good heart you have?

I pushed that worry deep inside my brain. I still had other damages on my body to assess.

Both of my shoulders had stab wounds in them making any movement in my arm embarrassingly impossible. There was too much blood covering my arms to see the exact damaged caused by the maniac in the next room.

I strained my neck as much as possible to see my wounded stomach. There was a long line carved into my skin with two intersecting lines crossing its path. It look me a moment to realize what those lines were supposed to be.

This dick cut the lines where my abs are showing. Ugh, I worked hard to make my body look decent enough to be accepted as 'flattering' in this fucked up society, I didn't need his help of carving me u like a pumpkin.

There are no more bikinis for me, ever. These cuts will surely scar. Of course, this is all assuming that I will make it out of this mess alive. The man in the next room seems like the kind of person who will use the body of a young woman then throw her away like trash. I wish I could tell him that he is the trash here. Anyone who has to force another person to have sex with them doesn't deserve sex at all.

I know that he certainly doesn't.

Before I could finish my overview of my damaged self, the man hung up the phone and stomped his fat form into his room with a nasty smirk plastered on his face.

He shut the door behind himself and stood there, looking at me waiting. He's waiting for me to beg for release, for all of this to be over! I can't believe this! Does this man honestly think that I am so weak that I would give into him at the first sight? I don't think so. That is not how I run my life. I never give up right away. Sure, I have quit things before but I always have had a good excuse to do so.

I won't give this creep the satisfaction of making me beg.

He chuckled and looked down at his dirty work boots before speaking in his sickening voice, "Imma take a piss, and then we can have some fun. How does that sound, pet?"

I didn't answer him. Instead I gave him a cold and hurtful stare, but he let the notion slide. He walked into the adjoining bathroom then shut and locked the door.

Huh, must be a habit, locking the door. Why would he do that if it slows down his time of getting out of the bathroom? If he heard me escaping, shouldn't he want to be there as fast as possible?

Whatever, his loss.

I knew that this was my only chance of escape but I could barely move my head! How am I supposed to get out of here? Wherever 'here' is…

I told myself that I would count to three and spring out of bed and make my escape. How hard could that be?

One…

Two…

Three!

I clenched my jaw and pulled at my almost naked form to fight out of bed. I gave up after only gaining a few inches of air away from the bed. The torturous pain was too much for me.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to channel my strength to try one more time.

I hoisted my broken body up again, effectively opening the wounds that were beginning to scab over. It took all of my will power not to scream out in agony in the endless pain that suffocated my body and mind alike.

I was forced to venture through the pain because I needed to get out.

I managed to sit up. I swung my legs over the bed while gasping for air to relieve the pain. I slid off of the bed and put one foot in front of another as fast as I could to get out of this hell hole.

I exited his bedroom to come face with a living room with a kitchen across from it. I looked to my left to find a window. I didn't venture over to it because I was afraid of the pain it would cause. I could see that we were in an apartment in London. Okay, good, a city.

To my right was the door out of his home. I made a B-line for it, ignoring the pain caused by my movements.

I practically ran out the apartment, the adrenaline flowing through my body is giving me a high like no other, naturally numbing the searing in my body.

I ignored the elevator entirely not trusting it for some reason. I made my way down the stairs as fast as I could. I made it down eight levels when I heard him walking up the stairs. I knew it was him. I could practically smell the sweat and alcohol on him and it made me want to vomit almost instantly.

Damn! He must have realized I was missing then had taken the elevator down and is now making his way up the stair in search for me.

I made my way onto the nearest floor. I barely noticed the dark green sign that had a giant 9 painted on it. I started running down the hallway as fast as I could, despite my protesting injuries, trying to look for a place to hide from the monster.

In the search for a hiding place I missed a door opening and a man stepping out. He caught my shoulders with a firm yet gentle grasp as I ran into him at full speed.

I looked up to meet his gaze. Those green eyes bore into my soul with a deep intensity, like he was reading my entire past. His eyes left mine when I whimpered from the applied pressure on my stabbed shoulders.

His large hands removed themselves from my arms and a concerned look crossed his face as he took in my entire body. I was still looking at his face, his beautiful face. It was perfect. His cheekbones are sharp and angular and his nose not too big, but certainly not small either. But his eyes, they were something not to be trifled with.

I could tell with one look that he has seen so much pain and darkness in the world but he has mastered a youthful façade over it. His green eyes seemed to shine blue for a moment before returning to a darker green than before.

His eyes seemed to hold all of his secrets. I wish that I could stare into them all day but I was interrupted by a burning sensation focused on my body.

I noticed that it was his eyes again. They were drilling a hole into me with only a light gaze. I don't know how that is even possible, but he is doing a fine job of it.

His eyes were roaming my body when I finally looked away from his face.

He could really see all of me. I was only wearing a broken bra and underwear so nothing was left to the imagination, but I had a feeling that his imagination was on a standstill at the moment.

"You need a hospital," he stated obviously. His voice was silky smooth yet forceful and commanding. I almost agreed to his command when my senses came back.

"No," I protested, my voice betraying my sudden wave of confidence. He tilted his head to the side in confusion. "He will find me there. I can't go back. He will hurt me," a tear made its way down my cheek moistening the dried blood and washing it down my face.

He seemed to contemplate something for a moment when he suddenly pulled my inside of his apartment with a firm hold on my wrist.

"You will hide here for the time being until I can figure out what to do with you. I don't even know who you are running from but I can guess why, I think it would be best if you remain in my care until you are fully healed," he spoke confidently. He pulled my wrist again to sit my on his soft leather couch. I only noticed that he had a laptop bag when he was removing it from his tall form. He pulled his suit jacket from his shoulders onto my own for warmth.

I looked for a nearby blanket but I had no such luck. What, does he never get cold? Impossible.

"B-but I don't even know your name," I managed through my broken voice.

"As do I," he responded smoothly.

I contemplated telling him my name. He could be just like the man I was so desperately running from. Yet, he doesn't act like him at all. His whole posture shows that he is way above something like that. He knows it too. He knows that he is better than most people. That feeling radiates off of him. The feeling of confidence and power, power over others seeps into me.

His clothes showed his confidence and importance as well. The suit jacket is nice. I recognize it as the newest Westwood model and the faint smell of cologne one the jacket was a nice sent. I could smell it all day if given the chance.

Even his laptop bag is expensive. This man clearly had a lot of money, but he looked so young. He could really only be about 32 years old. He must be smart. Only someone smart could have all of this money and be so young.

Well, that's not entirely true. He could be a model. He certainly looks like one. His body is tall, well over six feet. Plus, he is fit. He's not a large man by any means, but his muscles are toned in a delightful way.

He caught me staring and smirked, still awaiting my name.

The confidence and power that radiated off of him made me feel safe for the time being, so I managed to mutter three words hoping it would draw his name out.

"Avery. Avery Novak."

"Loki."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the two reviews and the follow! This chapter is infinitely lighter than the last one. Don't worry if I'm being kind of vague in this chapter, I will explain some things later in the story.**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

I sat on his couch waiting for my mind to realize where I had heard that name before.

A few seconds past before it hit me like a brick. This was the same man who tried to take over the world in 2012!

"B-but I thought you were in prison on Asgard. Did they not punish you?" My voice escalated, the mere thought of him going unpunished from all of the deaths that he caused was unsettling. What kind of justice system did they have in Asgard anyway?!

"Oh no, child. I can assure you that they attempted to punish me," he stated coolly as he began searching through the kitchen cupboards for a first aid kit, I assumed. He pulled out a red bag before continuing, "I faked my death before returning here to bring about Ragnarok for the Universe. This place deserves war and death for every one of its residents." He looked at me with that intense gaze he seems to favor.

"Surely there must be someone in this universe that doesn't deserve to die premature?"

He looked at his shiny shoes and replied with a firm but quiet, "No."

It doesn't take a genius to realize that he was lying. I wanted to push the subject further but he changed it to my injuries.

"You need to be stitched up, quickly." Loki bent down in front of the couch, placing the bag on the floor.

"Don't you have magic? Can you not fix all of this with a simple swipe of the hand?" I asked as I noticed him pulling out pain medication along with a needle and string.

He smirked. "Using my magic on you would certainly heal your wounds, but they would open some as well."

"I'm afraid that I don't understand," I countered. This man was confusing, wow. Wait, is he a man? No, no, he is a God, that's right.

"Healing your physical wounds will also heal your mental wounds as well. You have suppressed memories from your childhood. I know that you don't want to revisit them, but you will have to if you want you injuries healed." He looked at me expectantly, waiting for my decision.

Yes, it is true that I choose not to remember things from my childhood, but maybe it's time to attempt to move on from that.

Wait! How did he know about my suppressed memories? Jeez, this guy can read minds now, well this could be interesting!

"Do it," I muttered softly. I am old enough now to revisit my past, no matter what kind of information I will learn from them.

Loki simply nodded and took back his jacket off of my shoulders, placing it on the floor beside him.

His right hand came to my chin, raising it up to expose my neck. His head turned to the side, as if contemplating how to go about healing me.

Suddenly his hand clasped around my neck, squeezing tightly. His green eyes bore into mine while he squeezed tighter.

"Who are you?" he yelled at my face, standing up to lean over me while I desperately tried to release his grip.

"Aver—"

"No! Who are you really?! Why are you here?" His knees moved onto the couch to straddle my waist, allowing him to get a better angle at my throat.

His left hand moved to hold both of my hand above my head because I started clawing at him.

My world began to spin from the lack of oxygen before it went completely black.

…

When I woke again I was still on the couch, just lying down. My hands were resting on my stomach. I awaited the pain but realized that the wounds that covered my stomach were completely healed!

I looked at myself as best as I could. There wasn't a scratch on my body!

Then it hit me. Crap! He used magic on me!

I shot up from the couch trying to make a run for it, but a large hand pushed me back down.

"Those memories that I discussed, I needed them exposed, not only for my benefit, but for yours as well." He stood towering over me.

I was about to respond when they all came back. The memories that I didn't want to think about ever again came flooding back with a vengeance.

Loki still stood, watching my facial expression change from confused to scared in a split second.

"What do you see?" Loki questioned me, his voice no longer soothing.

"I'm… I'm…"

"You are an Asgardian," he finished for me. "You remember growing up in a small cottage in Asgard with your mother until she gave you up. You suppressed the memories of your relocation to Midgard."

"I always thought that I lived in Germany or something before moving to America. I didn't realize that I was actually in Asgard! This doesn't make any sense. If I'm an Asgardian then why do I age like a human? Why do I heal like a human as well?"

"How old are you?" he asked quickly.

"What? That doesn't answer my question." Seriously! This guy just does what he wants, doesn't he?

"How. Old. Are. You?" he asked again, punctuating every word.

Okay, I got it, he doesn't like repeating things, jeez. "17. I'll be 18 in two weeks," what does my age have to do with this?

"Hmm," he started, "That explains that."

"Okay, enough of the confusing answers. Why does my body act so human?"

He chuckled, his white teeth flashing. "Every Asgardian goes through the same thing. From the day you are born until the age of 18, your body acts that of Midgardians. After your 18th birthday, your aging will virtually stop and all of that reserved energy will allow you to heal quickly. I suspect that after these two weeks are over, you will see the change as well."

Wow, that was a lot to take in. I'll stop getting older at 18! Damn! "So I'll look 18 forever?" it was a reasonable question to ask.

"No, no, no. I said you will _virtually_ stop getting older. Your body will age, just at a slower pace."

I sat up trying to think of what to do with all of this information. I mean, I'm Asgardian! Wait, "How did you know that I was an Asgardian?" It must have been him reading my mind again, damn.

He smirked again, looking directly into my eyes. "Your eyes," he stated. "Every Asgardian has a black speck in their eyes that resembles a star, you have one."

"So, you didn't read my mind?"

He laughed deeply, "No, child. Nobody can read minds. Mortals and their fears, ha!"

I looked into those deep green eyes, sure enough, there was a black spot, but it looked like a waning crescent moon.

"Why does yours look like a moon if you are from Asgard?"

His calm features turned dark for a second. "Because I am not from Asgard, little one. I am from Jotunheim." His face fell as he was speaking these words. I could tell that he didn't want to dive into this subject further so I changed it, much to his relief.

"Could I get something to eat?" I asked. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday's breakfast of a granola bar and an apple, but it is almost time for dinner. Yes, it's only three o'clock but I am extremely hungry.

"Unfortunately, this dwelling has no come equipped with food so we will have to go out to eat. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah, but, in case you haven't noticed, my clothes are in no shape to be venturing out into the world," I gestured down to my still beaten and bloodied bra.

He cracked a small but genuine smile. I had no idea that a person could hold a smile like that. It was so full of meaning and so beautiful. I could stare at that smile all day long if he would let me. "No," he started, still smiling, "I suppose not."

With a swipe of his hand a green glow outlined my small frame replacing the dirty piece of cloth I called a bra with a fresh and new dark green one. He replaced my underwear as well, matching it with my bra.

A navy blue Panic! At the Disco shirt formed over my chest. Next was a pair of dark skinny jeans with a green hoodie that formed over the t-shirt. Black socks were next to cover me. A pair of dark green high top converse that matched my hoodie was the last bit of clothing he chose for me.

I smiled looking down at myself. Yes, this is definitely something I would have picked out for myself on a normal day. "Is green your favorite color or something?" I asked still smiling at the act that performed right in front of my eyes.

"It is a personal favorite yes, but I thought that you may like this outfit as well."

"Well, yeah, duh! This thing is really comfortable and it's nice to be wearing clothes again." I looked up to him, waiting for a response of some kind.

He just looked down at me with such feeling I almost wanted to look away, but I couldn't resist looking into his beautiful green eyes. They seem much more relaxed now than when I bumped into him in the hallway.

I broke the silence, "Where to, Loki?"

He broke the stare, looking down while walking towards the door and opening it, gesturing me to go first.

I swung my feet over to the couch and made my way to the door; however, I didn't cross the threshold. I looked up to Loki, "What if he finds me again, I can't go with him." I spoke softly wanting to get the point across that I was still scared of the maniac who had kept me prisoner.

He put his left elbow out for me to slide my arm though, to which I gladly complied. "The man who took you can no longer hurt you, as long as you remain in my care and listen to what I say. Understand?"

"Yes, Loki," I looked straight ahead and took the first step out of his safe apartment and into the world again.

 **I love reviews and comments more than Loki loves the color green! Okay, maybe not, but I do like to see them, so anything you have for me, I will take!**


End file.
